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For a second, Aziraphale struggled to process what he was seeing.
It was the Garden. The Tree. Recreated in his bookshop and glowing with an unnatural golden light. It was beautiful and unnerving. Crowley looked like he was thinking something similar. He looked queasy.
“So… what do you want?”
“Me?” Crowley asked. “Why me?”
“Because I only want one thing. And that’s not what this is about anymore. What do you want, Crowley?”
Crowley gulped. “You know what I want,” he said. “I want a real universe. I want the people to have a chance. I want Free Will to be a real thing. People deserve the chance to live in the real world. Even if there are no angels. No demons. No us. Ever again…”
Aziraphale felt like he’d been slapped across the face. The room felt like it was spinning. Like the floor had been pulled from under him. Tears welled in his eyes.
“Did I say the wrong thing?” Crowley asked.
For another second, Aziraphale hesitated. Had he not just said that what he wanted didn’t matter? He supposed he had, but he hadn’t meant… In the 6000 years he had known Crowley had he ever expected this? Had the demon ever been the type to surrender entirely?
Did I say the wrong thing?
“Yes!” Aziraphale snapped, rounding on Crowley.
“Crowley, I’m sorry I left. I was wrong. I thought it was the only way to save everyone. I miscalculated. I hurt you, and I’ve been insensitive to what you were going through. For that, I truly apologize, but stop and think about this for a second, Dear Boy!”
Crowley took a step back under the apple tree. He was the one who looked stricken now, but Aziraphale didn’t care. He wanted to shock him. Wanted to scream and sob and shake his friend until he saw sense.
In the back of his mind, something told him that this was exactly how Crowley had felt when he’d said he was going back to Heaven. Rage. Terror. Complete and utter panic that the being he loved most in the universe was abandoning him, and a desperate need to stop it. Aziraphale had felt something similar once before when Crowley had asked for Holy Water. But this was so much worse because Crowley wasn’t just abandoning him–he was abandoning everything!
Before Crowley could form more than a few stammering syllables, Aziraphale found himself shouting again.
“You say you want Free Will to be a real thing? What do you think we’ve been doing all these years?! What was the point of all the tempting and inspiring if you didn’t believe they had a choice?! You said so yourself about the Antichrist, nobody is born good or evil, it’s about influences! And more often than not, not even our influences! They listen to each other more than us! No matter what you told Him,” Aziraphale said with a dismissive wave at Satan, “the humans thought up the Inquisition, and the guillotine, and fascism all on their own! The same way they thought up vaccines, and poetry, and civil rights! It’s not always pretty, but it was their own doing!
“And what about us?” he continued shouting. “And Gabriel and Beelzebub? Nobody made us do the things we did! Certainly She didn’t make us reach our Arrangement or cause them to run off together! We all abandoned our duties of our own volition–now you want us to be annihilated for it? What about Muriel? Or Mrs. Sandwich? Or Adam? Or Maggie and Nina? Or your car? Or all the big-brained dolphins? What did they do to deserve non-existence? Are you honestly saying you’ve sided with Michael? And Her?! That’s not the Crowley I know! You just called Her plan lunacy five minutes ago! Now you’re all for it?!”
He took a shuddering breath.
“If you don’t want to forgive me, I understand. You never have to talk to me again. I meant that when I said it’s not about what I want,” Aziraphale’s voice cracked. “But give them a second chance. And give yourself a chance to live. Because ‘us’ or not… I don’t want to think about a universe without you in it.”
He gulped then continued, voice shaking. “Maybe you didn’t show me what it meant to be brave, but you did show me that it was alright to think for myself. You’re the one who convinced me this world was worth fighting for. So why don’t you fight for it? You’re so clever, and so imaginative… It’s part of why I love you. I know you can think up another way out of this. But if you won’t, so help me, I’ll take all these books and pens and rewrite the whole universe myself, including making you see the value of your own existence!”
Aziraphale stopped shouting as suddenly as he’d started, breathing heavily and staring at Crowley.
Neither of them moved. Aziraphale’s storm-blue eyes bored into Crowley’s golden ones, willing him to see the light.
The room had grown so silent that the subtle cracking from inside the Tree may as well have been thunder.
Whether it happened through his own power or Someone else’s, Aziraphale couldn’t be sure, but the sound was followed by a rustling as a single red apple fell from the Tree and dully bounced off Crowley head.
The demon caught it and blinked slowly several times, finally looking down at the fruit and turning it over slowly in his hand.
“Aziraphale…” Crowley finally whimpered, looking back from the Apple to the angel.
Aziraphale inclined his head encouragingly.
Before he knew what had happened, Aziraphale found himself wrapped in Crowley’s arms.
“Angel,” Crowley sobbed. “M’sorry! ‘Course I forgive you. Don’t–Don’t leave me again. I d-don’t want– I don’t know–”
Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck and the angel returned the embrace, enveloping his lanky frame in his arms.
“I can’t b’lieve I almost… You’re all I’ve ever wanted ‘ngel.”
“It’s alright, Dear,” Aziraphale breathed, the tiniest hint of relief flooding into his chest.
“M’tired of the Plans. The prophecies, and the wars, and the sides. We all deserve better than those two messing about with us… But I…”
“I understand,” Aziraphale sighed.
Crowley nodded and pulled back to face Aziraphale. “I’ve gotta plan. If this works, it’s you ‘n me, right? Our own side? Forever?”
Aziraphale smiled, took Crowley’s hand, and turned to face God.
“I believe we’ve reached a decision,” he said cheerfully.
The Almighty raised an imperious eyebrow. “And?” She asked.
Crowley took a deep breath and Aziraphale squeezed his hand.
“We want another chance,” Crowley said. “Put it all back, but not exactly the way it was! I mean, most of it, yes, but… well if we go back to where we were yesterday nothing changes, does it? We’re back in Your big Ineffable loop, aren’t we? Somebody always plotting to end it all. We don’t want any more of that!”
Satan smirked at God. “I told You he was clever,” he said. “Such a shame about that nice streak.”
Crowley shuddered and God scowled at the Adversary.
“Then what would you have Me change?” She asked Crowley.
“No more Great War. No more Ineffable Plan. No more Final Battle of Heaven and Hell,” Crowley said, still fidgeting with the Apple in his free hand. “We demons made our choices and we lost. The punishment never seemed entirely fair, but it’s not like there were many regrets. It’s not worth dragging the rest of the universe into our feud for eternity… or lack thereof.”
God made a gesture that indicated Crowley should get on with it.
He took another deep breath.
“What I want is for You to remake the world minus the last three years,” he declared.
Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat and his head spun away from God, towards Crowley. The demon didn’t stop.
“I want to go back to the day Gabriel and Beelzebub buggered off. But instead of coming and convincing Aziraphale to play your twisted, rigged game, I want your wanker of a spokesman to announce that Your position has changed and that Gabriel and Beelzebub were right and the War is off in perpetuity. Appoint someone reasonable to be the new Supreme Archangel in charge of managing souls and tell everyone that’s their only job now,” Crowley said. “Let the humans make their choices, and maybe tell demons and angels to spend a little more time among them--or with each other for that matter! S’not like they don’t talk anyway, maybe they could all learn something.”
Aziraphale bit his lip trying to hold back the full extent of his delighted smile as Crowley pivoted to Satan.
“And you,” he said defiantly, “are going to back this all this up and make those morons Downstairs stand down.”
“No major interference,” God acknowledged. “And then what?”
“Nothing!” Aziraphale interjected. “Life goes on. No Armageddon. Just let things keep turning for billions of years as it will until the eventual heat-death of the universe.”
“Or, You know, however it stops naturally,” Crowley offered. “Heat death isn’t a deal breaker.”
“Agreed,” Aziraphale said with his own enthusiastic nod.
God nodded thoughtfully. “It’s a logical point to make the change,” She said. “Of course, you realize not all your colleagues will like it?”
“I’m sure they won’t,” Crowley conceded.
“Do you suppose in exchange for Hell agreeing to abandon hostilities You could perhaps let them have a nicer work space?” Aziraphale offered. “I mean, for the demons. I’ve been down there, it’s dreadful, and they are providing a service after all: punishing the truly wicked. And it has been six thousand years…”
Crowley smirked fondly and God actually laughed at the comment, causing Aziraphale to fear for a moment that he'd ruined everything.
“Oh Aziraphale,” She chuckled. “You really are funny with your creature comforts… I’ll see what I can do to ease tensions. Anything else?”
“Yes!” Crowley added. “Joshua should be allowed to visit from time to time. Not as the big important Return and all that, but… just to have a better go spreading peace and love. He’s a nice young man, he deserves it. And, Aziraphale knows, the humans could use some of that right now.”
God smiled, and Aziraphale didn’t know if he should be relieved or terrified.
“You’re not really going to indulge them in this?” Satan asked, eyes wide.
“I am. Would you rather annihilation, or an indefinite extension of your role as Prince of Darkness?”
The devil looked defiant for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s not such a bad job,” he conceded.
“Alright then,” God said. “Three years back. You do realize as the only surviving beings in the universe that you’ll still remember everything that’s happened?” She asked with a meaningful look between them.
Aziraphale and Crowley nodded.
“And you won’t be able to speak of it to anyone else.”
“Wouldn’t want to,” Crowley answered.
“Very well, I’ll do it. I believe I’ll need a book though.”
Aziraphale scrambled to a shelf and produced a large volume that had until lately been a very nice hard cover copy of Carl Sagan’s “Cosmos” and extended it reverently to the Almighty, along with his pen.
She reached for it.
“Aziraphale gets to keep that!” Crowley suddenly shouted.
God looked at him indignantly.
“The Book!” he clarified. “When you’re done with it. Nobody else can know, but it should stay in the shop. I mean, it got stolen in Heaven, if there’s anyone You should trust to keep it safe it should be the angel who was willing to fight you two to keep the universe going! Twice!”
“It seems he’s got a point there,” Satan chuckled. “Your people ended up being even better than mine at breaking the rules to destroy things when it came down to it.”
God gave the former Archangel a withering look and took the book in one hand, popping it open.
“You’re not going to remember where it is,” She muttered at Satan as She uncapped the ornate pen. Then She touched the nib to the first blank page with a flourish.
“Let there be light,” She said authoritatively.
Around them the windows of the shop burst into light, as the sun remembered it existed. The light grew impossibly, blindingly brighter and Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut, his hand clamping hard around Crowley’s and the demon squeezed back with equal fervor.
The room grew hot, then cold, then pleasantly warm and Aziraphale had the impression he was spinning, then flying, then falling a great distance. Then all at once it stopped and he was aware of his feet on the solid ground once more.
“Every day it’s a gettin’ closer–” a familiar male voice sang gently.
Gabriel!
“Going faster than a rollercoaster,” Beelzebub’s voice joined him.
“Love like yours will surely come my way.”
Aziraphale’s eyes opened just in time to see the former Supreme Archangel and Prince of Hell vanish in a twinkle of light.
He looked around. He hadn’t actually moved. He and Crowley were standing together just where they had been in the center of the shop, Crowley even still clutched the lone Apple, but the Tree was gone along with God and Satan. Instead Michael, Uriel, Saraqael, Muriel, Dagon, Shax, and Furfur were standing staring in shock at the place where their former bosses had just stood.
“I believe the Dark Council will have something to say about all this!” Shax declared.
“If you think I’m letting you claim a seat as Grand Duke on that traitor’s orders–” Dagon interrupted.
“Silence! I am authorized to remove the name of anyone who helped Gabriel from the Book of Life!” Michael shouted. “You’re all in trouble. You will never have existed, Aziraphale!”
Crowley’s hand tightened on Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale looked fully at the demon for the first time. He looked terrified as he took a protective step towards Michael.
“In the absence of Gabriel, I am the Supreme Archangel–”
“Duty Officer,” Uriel corrected under their breath.
Behind Michael, the shop’s door opened and an old man in a black coat entered.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry. I must interrupt you there,” the Metatron said, “but you’re talking complete piffle.”
He wasn’t holding a coffee. Instead, Aziraphale noticed he had a white scroll clutched in his hand.
Michael and Uriel jumped as the demons stared in confusion.
“Lord Metatron!” Saraqael gasped.
He gave her an appreciative nod and the demons began to squirm.
“We’ll just be going,” Dagon said.
“Oh, no stay. I have news I believe Hell will be interested in too,” the Metatron said, brandishing the scroll.
“Your Grace,” Michael stammered. “The traitor Gabriel. Aziraphale and that demon helped him! He’s gone off with–”
“Yes, yes. Do you think I am unaware? The Almighty has been monitoring the situation and there has been an official determination made.”
He opened the scroll, popping a golden seal from the paper.
“The Lord God Almighty has decreed, in light of recent events that the angels Aziraphale and Gabriel as well as the demons Crowley and Beelzebub have done no wrong in their actions preventing the end of the universe as it exists,” he read. “Furthermore, it has been revealed that the universe, having completed its six thousand year mandatory test-run and survived challenges sent by both Heaven and Hell in accordance with the Great Plan, shall be permitted to continue existing in perpetuity until such time that it can no longer continue functioning. No war shall be necessary. The true triumph of Heaven or Hell will be determined by whichever side most humans have aligned themselves with by the time the world comes to its natural end.”
He paused and looked around at the gathered supernatural beings, who all wore stunned and dismayed expressions on their faces.
“Angels and demons are hereby encouraged to continue living among creation and occasionally testing humans to exercise their free will, but not to the point of doing direct physical harm. Interactions between factions will not be punished.”
The Metatron closed his scroll.
“Also, Michael,” he added. “Because of your over-enthusiasm to use the Book of Life punitively with no thought to the implications of erasing people from existence, Archangel Saraqael will be taking the position of Supreme Archangel moving forward. Consider yourself lucky you aren’t being sent off with this lot,” he said with a gesture at Dagon and her underlings.
“I don’t believe it!” Dagon shouted before Michael could react. “This is a trick! You want us to let our guard down so we aren’t prepared for the War! We won’t fall for it–”
The door chimed again and the demon with two large hair spikes who Aziraphale swore he’d discorporated with his prayer circle came rushing in, holding a grubby envelope.
“Message for you, Lord Dagon!” he squeaked. “Straight from the Ninth Circle…”
Dagon snarled at him and snatched the envelope, causing the demon to stumble back and knock into Muriel, who seemed to have lost interest in the political drama and was examining Aziraphale’s bookshelves.
“Oh, sorry,” the Scrivener said.
The demon smiled awkwardly and raised a hand in an oddly conciliatory gesture.
Muriel grinned and turned back to the shelf.
Dagon had ripped open the letter and appeared to be re-reading it, a look of disbelief on their sharkish face.
“Well?” Shax demanded. “What does it say?”
“He’s telling the truth, you imbeciles,” Dagon read. “Get back down here before you get yourselves smited. We need to sort out new administrative duties, also as part of the deal, the roof has stopped leaking, so you have to clear out all the old buckets of sludge stinking up the place. Your Infernal Master, Satan.”
Dagon continued to stare at the letter in shock. “And it’s got his seal.”
“New administrative– That Council seat is mine!” Shax declared, vanishing in a pillar of flame.
“No more sludge leaks!” Furfur said with what was almost a smile and the messenger demon nodded enthusiastically before they too vanished, followed by Dagon.
“Well, what are you three still doing here?” the Metatron asked, turning to the Archangels. “Go on! We have work to do too!”
With a harried look, all three vanished in a flash.
“Oh! Right, I suppose I should go too,” Muriel said, putting down a copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ Crowley had left out years– or rather days ago.
“Just a moment,” the Metatron said, stopping her. “It seems we’re going to be needing a new primary Earth Emissary to do our reports, as you’ve already got a body and are familiar with your predecessor,” he gestured at Aziraphale. “Would you be interested in the job?”
Muriel beamed.
“Really? Is this a promotion?”
“Yes I believe you’d be raised to the status of Principality.”
“Oh! Oh my goodness! Thank you!” Muriel gushed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Jolly good,” the Metatron said. “Now get back Upstairs. We’ll sort out the details shortly.”
“Thank you!” Muriel said again, then she turned to Aziraphale and Crowley and waved. “Bye! See you soon!” and in a flash, she was gone.
The Metatron turned to him and for a second Aziraphale’s heart stopped. He didn’t like the sense of deja vu he was feeling, staring down the Voice of God in the bookshop.
“Am I no longer Heaven’s Earth Emissary, then?” he asked nervously.
“Apparently no,” the Metatron said. “The Almighty said you’re still an angel but to view you more as a ‘consultant’... whatever that means is anybody’s guess. You know how She can be. She also said to tell you She thinks you need an astrophysics section in your shop, and winked when She said it. Make of that what you will.”
The Metatron shrugged and Aziraphale nodded.
With one final dubious look at Crowley, the Metatron strolled out of the shop.
Aziraphale let out the deepest sigh of his life. “You did it,” he gasped, turning to look fully at Crowley.
The demon shook his head. “We did it, Angel! Without you–”
But Crowley didn’t have time to finish the sentence. Aziraphale had grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him into a crushing kiss.
It took only a second for the demon to respond. There was a thunk as an Apple hit the floor and rolled, as Crowley wrapped his arms tightly around the angel’s back, hands fisting in his jacket, holding him as close as he could manage, the way Aziraphale had been fantasizing about for the last three years.
When they finally broke their embrace, they both had tears in their eyes.
“Thank you, my dear,” Aziraphale said.
“For what?” Crowley asked breathlessly.
“For giving us a second chance to be us.”
Crowley smiled and glanced at the clock on the wall. “By my count it’s still a first chance.”
Aziraphale gave a sad smile. “I wish that was true. I wish I could take back everything I said to you last time about being the angel you were again. I was wrong, and it’s the demon you are who I fell in love with. I just–”
Crowley raised his hand and placed his fingers on Aziraphale’s lips, effectively stopping his babbling.
“I appreciate that, Aziraphale, but if you can get past me saying we shouldn’t exist, I can get past you wanting me to come with you to try fixing things.”
Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s fingers and took his hand, pulling it down to speak again.
“I think this is what She meant, saying that we’d remember everything, even if officially it never happened,” he mused.
Crowley nodded. “Yeah, She’s tricky that way, but I have faith in us. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
Aziraphale leaned up and kissed Crowley again, more gently this time, and savored the waves of love washing over him from the demon.
“What do you say we celebrate this whole mess being over by heading out for some extremely alcoholic brunch?” Crowley asked. “It’s been too long.”
“That sounds wonderful, Darling,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “Although, shouldn’t we find the ‘astrophysics section’ first?” he asked warily.
Crowley shrugged. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later. Nobody knows it’s here. Right now I want to get out of here before Maggie and Nina show up to pester us.”
“Ah!” Aziraphale said with a chuckle. “Understood. Shall we then?”
Crowley squeezed his hand and together they stepped past the empty armchair beneath which an Apple had come to rest against a book containing all that is, or was, or ever would be, out of the bookshop and towards the waiting Bentley. The sun glistened off the car’s gleaming hood as the residents of Whickber Street began bustling about their morning routines. It was shaping up to be a nice day.